


You're on a different road, I'm in the milky way

by checkthemargins, mediaville



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Frottage, Kissing, M/M, Minor reference to Harry/other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-07
Updated: 2013-07-07
Packaged: 2017-12-17 22:36:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/872742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/checkthemargins/pseuds/checkthemargins, https://archiveofourown.org/users/mediaville/pseuds/mediaville
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis is in need of recharging. Harry helps him out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're on a different road, I'm in the milky way

**Author's Note:**

> Just a silly ficlet, we'll call it KWP. The challenge was to see if we could imagine present day, non-AU Harry/Louis being sweet to each other, as opposed to all-angst-all-the-time.

They have a morning interview with a Houston radio station their first day in Texas, but they're off the rest of the day. The security detail is all tied up planning their travel route to the venue so everyone's in the hotel, forced to relax for a few hours.

It's early afternoon, and Harry's been to the hotel gym and had a long, cool shower. It's comfortable in his room, but the air conditioner is making a steady humming sound and the heat outside is visible from his window. Harry's naked, hair still wet, and skin still sweating from his workout, and it's all combining to make him feel lazy, but not tired enough to nap. He stretches out on his bed, rubbing his toes into the sheets and concentrates on his breathing. He's bored, but trying not to let it get him anxious. Quiet, alone time is so rare, and while he knows he should try to enjoy it, he doesn't like stretches of time like this, feels trapped without work to be done or people to talk to. Idle hands are the devil's tools and all that. He reaches for his mobile, charging on the bedside table when there's a light knock.

He's in one of their many rooms linked together by adjoining doors, and he doesn't recall if Niall or Louis is on that side, but he calls out, "It's open," anyway. It's Louis, looking distracted and sleepy in a soft-looking t-shirt that might belong to any of them and worn pyjama bottoms that he's cuffed at his ankles so that they don't drag. His hair is soft, falling over his forehead, and he's holding a Playstation 3 controller. He looks small and cosy and tempting.

"Hey, 've you got one of the charger cords for this?" Louis shakes the controller toward Harry. "It died and I'm in the middle of a game."

Harry blinks, considers his options. "Hm, look under there?" He gestures vaguely towards the cabinet under the telly.

Louis's face lights up, hopeful and cute. The thought makes Harry smile, makes him feel like a ridiculous little girl, like one of their fans who looks at Louis and thinks _that boy is really cute_. He watches as Louis crouches down and peers at the shelves, moving various electronics and hotel magazines around. Harry's eyes catch on the flex of his shoulders, the curve of his spine, the dip and flare of his bum.

"Bugger," Louis whispers. He stands, turning back towards Harry. "You don't have one in your bag?"

Harry shakes his head, wet hair rubbing against the pillow. "Sorry," he says, although he might indeed have a charger in his bag. He isn't getting up off the bed to get it.

"Mm," Louis says, frowning. "Maybe Niall does."

He's headed across the room to the other door, and Harry watches him walk, watches the way his toes curl into the plush carpet, the way his pyjamas slide low on his hips. Harry presses his cheek into the pillowcase and clears his throat. "Hey, Lou, c'mere a second."

Louis looks around, hand already outstretched toward the door knob. He raises an eyebrow. "What?"

"Just c'mere, yeah? I wanna show you something."

Louis frowns, but walks over, still clutching his controller. Harry clicks the button on the top of his phone to wake it back up as Louis approaches the side of the bed.

"Don't show me Twitter," Louis warns. "Are you going to show me Twitter?"

"No," says Harry. He tries to sound exasperated but mostly he sounds lazy. Louis's thighs are pressed right up to the bed. He's not close enough. "C'mere."

"I'm right--"

"No, just like, come look."

Louis leans over, trying to catch sight of the screen of Harry's mobile, intrigued despite himself.

As soon as he's close enough, Harry leans up, slips one hand behind Louis's neck and tugs him down. There's a flash of confusion on Louis's face, turned towards his, just before Harry kisses him. It's a little clumsy due to the surprise attack, but it'll do.

"Whuh--" Louis starts to say, but he doesn't pull away, so Harry arches up again and presses another kiss to his mouth, muffling any protests as best he can.

He kisses Louis softly because coaxing Louis into kissing back is a process and Harry can't rush him. His stomach muscles are cramping from the position before Louis responds cautiously, lips closed but yielding, slowly catching on Harry's top lip, and then his bottom, just the faintest of suction.

The hum of the air conditioner is reduced to the background, their quiet mouth noises breaking the silence.

Harry leans up further, wets his lips with his tongue and then captures Louis's mouth again, kissing him softly, again and again, humming against Louis's lips. He pulls back just enough to let Louis take a breath, nuzzles at Louis's cheek and jaw while he cups the back of Louis's neck. Slowly, Harry uncurls, lowering his head back down to the bed. He keeps his hand where it is but he doesn't pull.

Louis blinks down at him, brings his hand up to wipe at his mouth. "Mm," he hums. He's still leaned over the bed, like he's not sure if they're done.

"Mm hm," Harry agrees. He lets his fingers trail down Louis's cheek, stroking lightly at the hinge of his jaw. He's so beautiful, but Harry holds back, gives Louis time.

Louis's small hand grips his wrist like he means to pull Harry away, stop him from going any further, only he doesn't. His fingers just circle there, tentative. "What was that for?" he rasps.

Harry looks up at him, holds his gaze. "Wanted to," he says simply, even though it's not simple at all. Louis huffs out a breath, smiles faintly like he thinks Harry's ridiculous, and maybe Harry is. He curls his fingers against Louis's face and licks his lips. "Always want to," he says quietly, lest Louis forget.

Louis nods, distracted, mouth turned down at the corners. "And the kid?" he asks quietly, barely more than a breath.

Harry's surprised, but he knows why Louis asks. It's only been a week since Louis walked in on Harry rubbing off on someone else, only five days since they'd had the hushed conversation on the bus where Louis had shrugged and said, _if it makes you happy, go for it,_ and Harry had curled around him, clutching at Louis's vest and wishing his reaction had been different.

It doesn't really matter, Harry knows. A snog here and there while on tour isn't the reason they don't do this.

He doesn't even blink. "'S not you."

Louis falters, gaze flitting from Harry's eyes to his mouth, down his body and back, cheeks flushed pink. It takes him a minute, indecision clear in his eyes, but finally he dips down and snags Harry's mouth. This kiss lingers, their mouths fitting together and moving slowly. Harry keeps quiet, parts his lips and lets Louis feel his tongue, just the tiniest swipe. Louis pulls back again, eyes fluttering open, fingers flexing around Harry's wrist and sighing faintly before leaning back in. His mouth falls open when Harry licks at him again, making it easier for Harry to suck lightly at the swell of Louis's bottom lip before pressing his tongue inside, tasting Louis's plush mouth.

A sudden cool touch to his sternum surprises him, makes him pull back and blink down at the controller resting there, Louis still gripping the other side. Louis looks too, frowning. He clears his throat very softly, looks away from Harry. "You can't just--"

"Sh," Harry breathes, kissing him again, sinking his teeth very lightly into Louis bottom lip. Louis's frown is weaker when it breaks, and he doesn't pull back so far this time, tilts his head into Harry's hand.

"I should," he tries, and he starts to turn his head to look back toward his room but Harry doesn't let him. He catches Louis's lips again, presses lingering kisses to his mouth over and over. He eases the controller out of Louis's grip with his free hand, lets it drop onto the duvet next to him. Louis's hand hovers over Harry's belly for a moment and Harry looks up at him, lips parted, tingling, wet from Louis's mouth. Louis is so unsure, so careful when he grazes his fingertips along Harry's stomach and then lets his palm press flat, touching his mouth to Harry's again.

Harry opens up, coaxes Louis's tongue into his mouth at small intervals, spreads his legs to give his swelling cock some room. He breathes Louis's name before he can stop himself, muffles the curious little sound Louis hums. It's so quiet, making the sound of their lips seem obvious, garish. Louis's crouched over him, has been since Harry called him over. It looks uncomfortable and Harry wants more, so he carefully pulls his wrist away from Louis and smoothes his hand down Louis's back, giving him the slightest nudge, just a suggestion. When he strokes back up he slips under the hem of Louis's shirt a bit, lets himself brush warm skin. Louis runs hot, is always so warm and solid under Harry's hands. He shivers a bit, fingers curling into Harry's belly.

Harry lets his head fall back, relaxing into the pillows, Louis following him further down in the kiss. Louis's frustrated little noise zings through Harry, and moments later Louis crawls onto the bed next to him. He's slow about it, doesn't seem to want to keep his mouth from Harry's for very long, but Harry's patient, a bit overwhelmed himself by the quiet, slow kisses. Louis's hand presses into his skin for leverage, and when he finally gets both knees up he leans over Harry properly, other hand planted on the bed next to Harry's shoulder. His t-shirt hangs off of him, tickling Harry's bare skin. Harry slides his hand back up to grip the nape of Louis's neck. It feels good. He feels good. It's been a long time.

Louis pulls back, rests his forehead on Harry's. "This really isn't--"

"Please," Harry whispers, kissing him quickly. He squeezes Louis's neck, pleads as best he can with his mouth, his eyes.

"Fuck," Louis breathes out, then ducks down again. His mouth is hot, hotter than Harry remembers. He kisses Harry thoroughly now, no longer coy. He keeps his hips raised, hovering over Harry on hands and knees, but it's enough.

It's enough for Harry to run his hands down Louis's body, from his shoulders to his hips. It's enough to be kissed by Louis, to feel wanted by Louis. It's enough to give Louis this. 

Louis whimpers quietly while he kisses Harry, hot little stabs of his tongue that Harry can't help but return, try to suck further inside his mouth. It's chaste, it should be chaste, but Harry's hard, dick swollen up fat and obvious. He moves to touch himself, tries to keep it subtle but Louis notices, eyes darting down and mouth stuttering against Harry's jaw. His breath is ragged, conflicted, but his eyes stay glued to Harry's cock.

His control is slipping. Harry's never had any to begin with.

"Sshh," Harry whispers. "C'mon."

Harry moves slowly when he turns his head, mouths at the pale insides of Louis's wrist. Louis makes a noise that sends a shock of heat through Harry, a certainty that they can have this, that they will today.

He feels the fingers of Louis's other hand tangling in his necklace, tugging so that the chain cuts into the back of his neck. It makes him arch up, helpless to it, and Louis groans, hisses _Harry, fuck_ and Harry whines, wanting more. He wants to pull Louis down onto him, wants to feel Louis's weight pressing him into the bed, wants to know if Louis is hard like he is, wants everything. Harry knows better than to push, knows that's the quickest way to end things. Instead he goes slack, arms and legs falling open, soft and pliant under Louis.

He waits, keeps his mouth wet and soft for Louis, lets Louis have whatever he wants.

"You're so hard," Louis murmurs, ducking his face down to look again.

Harry swells further under his gaze, skin stretching over his stiff prick, foreskin pulled back. "Kiss me," he begs, breathless. He pulls his hand away from his dick and slides it up around Louis's back, clutches at the wings of Louis's shoulder blades, tugs him down gently enough that Louis can ignore it if he needs to.

"I don't think--" Louis starts, but Harry shakes his head, shifts his hips on the mattress.

"Just kiss me," he says again, more urgently this time.

Louis makes a strangled noise but does, ducking down and fucking Harry's mouth with his tongue until Harry is sweating into the sheets, trying to keep his hips from pumping up into the air, seeking Louis out.

He nearly cries out when Louis slips away, falls to the side and puts a hand on Harry's jaw, turning his face. "S'okay," Louis says, quieting him with another kiss. Louis hooks a leg over one of Harry's, keeping him spread open but not touching. "Can I watch you?" he breathes, and the words blaze through Harry, a shock of want sizzling in his belly. He nods jerkily, breathing out fast.

He's going to come for Louis. It's like a haze when he reaches down, cups himself, slaps his dick against his belly a few times. He knows how it looks. He sees how Louis stares, his eyes hungry when a blurt of precome taps out onto Harry's fingers and leaves a sticky smear on his skin. Harry's overwhelmed, feels like he's been drugged, all of the blood in his body rushing for Louis. He drops his head back and licks his lips, pleading silently for Louis's mouth. When Louis kisses him, Harry circles his own cock, the heat coming in waves. He catches Louis's tongue, pulls it into his mouth with slow, insistent sucks until Louis is groaning, clutching at Harry's shoulder desperately. Harry can feel the tension in Louis's body, can taste it in every stab of his tongue.

Harry's dick is a hot, heavy curve in his hand, and he barely pulls at it before he's overcome, unable to do more than pant against Louis's wet mouth.

Louis shifts then, and Harry feels him, feels the awkward shape of his erection pressing into his hip. Harry's face crumples, eyebrows pulling together like it hurts, when really nothing has ever felt better. He keeps the ring of his fingers loose, a barely there stroke, slow pumps that make his whole body spasm. Every kiss, every touch leaves him tender, oversensitized, needing to come.

"You look--" Louis says, soft like a secret, words tight like they're hurting him to say. His hair brushes over Harry's face and his fingers curl into Harry's side. He sounds gutted. "You look so good, Harry."

Harry cries out, surprised, hand tightening around his cock as he starts to shoot off. Louis stops kissing him, pressing his face into Harry's instead, angling down so he can see Harry shudder through his orgasm, breath coming fast and ragged as come drips onto his belly. It pulses through him, muscles clenching with each wave until he's spent, shattered.

Louis strokes his hair, pushing it away from his sweat-damp skin, soothing him. Harry wipes his hand on the hotel sheets quickly, then slips both hands into Louis's hair, pulls him in for a messy kiss that leaves him as breathless as Harry is.

Louis's hands are shaking and his eyebrows are furrowed and Harry wants him but he can't--won't--make this choice for him. He gentles his hands in Louis's hair, untangles one completely and slides it down to rest on the small of Louis's back. Louis's hard in his pyjamas, his dick a rigid press against Harry's thigh. Harry pushes down on his back and Louis sighs, quiet against his mouth. "S'okay," Harry whispers, slipping his hand down to Louis's bum, pressing again until Louis ruts into him, jerky but there, cock shove-shove-shoving as his eyes flutter closed. Louis makes a desperate, unhappy noise. "Sshh," Harry soothes. "Just this."

Harry kisses him for as long as he can, coaxing Louis's tongue into his mouth, licking his way into Louis's, pulling him in closer and spreading his legs a bit more like if he just opens up enough Louis will sink right into him.

Louis's cock is hot and hard, still swaddled in his cosy clothes, pyjamas catching and shifting while his hips circle slowly, haltingly. He ruts against Harry's thigh for a few minutes, little roving pushes that make Harry gasp, but he eventually stops, snugs his stiff prick against Harry's naked skin and holds there. Louis's eyes flutter open and they're so blue and his hair is falling over his forehead the same way it did when they first--that first time in a too-small bunk when Harry couldn't believe his luck, couldn't understand what this gorgeous, brilliant boy saw in him. Louis always makes Harry feel sixteen, but especially now, comed out and awestruck, this bizarre combination of sated and left wanting. His face looks older now, circles under his eyes and stubble on his chin. Harry strokes the back of his neck and holds himself still until he's sure that Louis isn't going to pull away.

"Lou," Harry murmurs. He wants to say so many things, but Louis's lips quirk up into a quiet, sincere little smile, taking his breath away. Louis yawns then, stretching his soft, warm body along Harry's side, then curling in on him, arm slipping across Harry's chest. Harry loses his train of thought entirely.

"You make me sleepy," Louis says, voice gone hoarse. He rests his head, pressing his face into Harry's neck. Harry can still feel his dick, fat and warm.

He nudges at Louis with his thigh. "You don't feel sleepy," Harry murmurs, his own voice raw and rough.

"Can we nap?" Louis asks. He wets his lips and pulls his hand off Harry's belly, curls his arm up between them and tightens his leg over Harry's. "Just for a bit?"

The way Louis looks at him makes Harry's heart stutter, like it's harder for Louis to ask for a cuddle than sex. Harry wants to give him everything, just isn't sure what's allowed, where the lines are drawn anymore. He breathes out and pets gently at Louis's hair. "Yeah, 'course." He watches Louis's face soften, his eyes start to droop. He's still that cute boy, just wearier now. "You could use the rest."

Louis looks away, down at their legs tangled together. "Haven't slept well, since--lately."

Harry grips his chin and tilts his face up, skidding their lips together one more time, soft and dry. He sits up just long enough to put his mobile and Louis's game controller on the bedside table and to tug the blanket up from the foot of the bed. He covers them both, pulling Louis onto his chest, tucking him in carefully.

 

Harry blinks awake when he feels Louis tense up in his arms. There's a soft knock at the door, the regular door of his hotel room, Louis shoots up, panicked, and then Harry's mobile buzzes on the bedside table. It all happens at once, has Harry's heart pounding in seconds flat.

He grabs Louis by the forearm, holding him close and keeping him from flying out of the room at the same time he sees the text.

_u there? it's me_

"Wait, wait," Harry hisses, quiet as he can. Louis is already up, already at the door, turning the handle to his room as silently as possible. Harry gets over to him, presses his palm to the door to keep Louis from leaving. "Don't go," he whispers, pressing his chest up to Louis's back, trying to tempt him back.

Louis gapes at him, incredulous. Harry's phone buzzes again in his hand.

_room 1435?_

"I won't answer," Harry whispers, mouth pressed up against Louis's ear. "I'll say I was sleeping. Just stay."

Louis looks a wreck, eyes puffy and clothes disheveled, but his face softens. He grins, eyes crinkling, shakes his head slowly, then grabs Harry by the back of the neck and pulls him down, fits their mouths together in a clumsy, aggressive kiss. He licks Harry's mouth out, sucks quickly on Harry's tongue until Harry's dick starts to fatten up again, and then pushes him back gently. Harry chases his mouth with a soft whimper, but Louis holds him off, dismisses him with a soft pat to his cheek.

There's another quiet knock on the front door as Louis slips out the side door. He looks back before closing it, says, "Sort yourself out," gesturing to the dried smudges of come on Harry's hip, "And go get your kid."

Harry stares at the door long after it snicks shut.


End file.
